No one had offered to provide her with a chair, but Maribelle didn’t want one anyway. She sat down on the floor outside the bars of the cage. This way would be better. She’d be closer to Adam, on the same level. Eye level, in fact.
The lab smelled like it always smelled, wiped down with antiseptic, like pool water with too much chlorine. And, just noticeable under that, the musky animal smell. They kept the cage cleaned out, of course. Two cages, in actuality, or one cage with two compartments. They moved the creature into the smaller section when they came in to shovel out the old straw and scat and scrub the floor. Maribelle had not seen this done. She wondered how they persuaded the creature to comply. Did they just ask him? Or did they use those damn cattle prods? Maybe high pressure hoses? (*No. Judi would never allow that.*) Still, there was no hiding the animal smell. They could suppress it but not make it go away.
Maribelle sat cross-legged, right up close to the bars. Some of the people around her gave her wary glances. Their eyes said it all. No way were any of them getting so close to the beast unless it was tranquilized. They expected her to get one of her arms torn off, or worse, and wouldn’t it be her own fault, anyway. Stupid girl, their eyes said. To hell with them. Maribelle didn’t care about their opinions. She had more important things to do.
“I want to talk with him,” she’d told Judith over the phone that morning. Calling too early, in fact; waking Judith up. But when Maribelle had her mind made up to do something she got it done, come hell or high water, as her Dad always said. Neither did she waste any time doing it.
“Of course, darling,” a groggy Judith had replied.
“No, I don’t mean to talk at him,” Maribelle said. “Like we have been. I mean to carry on an actual conversation.”
So here was her solution. A bit thrown together, maybe, but serviceable. Judith had said she’d been planning something along the very same lines. Maribelle just got there first.
Her laptop sat open on the floor in front of her. A black cable wound like a snake through the bars, connected to a second. The creature squatted in front of this other laptop. (*No. No more of this “creature” stuff. His name is ADAM. Call him by his name.*)
He stared at the computer, then looked up at Maribelle.
“See, whatever you type, it shows up on my screen out here,” Maribelle said. “As soon as you type it. This way we can communicate better. You understand?” (*Stupid. Of course he understands.*) The creature, the Blackmane, Adam, began to tap at the keyboard in front of him with one yellow claw. Maribelle watched her monitor screen. The letters popped into existence like magic.
H.E.L.L.O. Space. M.A.R.E.H.B.E.L.
“You remember my name,” she said. She smiled. She figured it was a goofy smile, but doubted Adam would take notice.
“Here, I’ll type in how it’s spelled,” she said.
Adam watched his own screen. He tapped the keyboard.
NICE NAME
“Thanks,” Maribelle said. “I, uh, I like yours, too,” she said. “Judi—Dr. Mocker—she said you picked it yourself? How come? Why ‘Adam?'”
She looked down at the monitor as he typed.
DID I REQUEST THEE MAKER FROM MY CLAY TO MOLD ME
“Oh, wait a minute,” Maribelle said. “Um, that’s from some poem, right? Let me think.”
Adam tapped at the keyboard.
MILTON
“Paradise Lost,” Maribelle said. “You memorized that?” She ran her hand through her hair. “God, Adam, how’d you get so smart?”
He tapped the keyboard.
FLUKE
“Yeah.” Maribelle nodded, reading.
ONLY ONE
“Amazing,” she muttered. She looked up from the screen. “I think Adam is a perfect name,” she said.
The golden eyes blinked at her.
“Are they treating you okay here?” she asked. “Treating you well, I mean.”
MOST
“Yeah.” She nodded. “You’re getting enough to eat?”
ENOUGH
A pause.
COLD
“Right.” *He’s used to eating what he kills. Fresh meat.* “Do you miss Africa?” she asked. *Another stupid question, Maribelle.*
DONT LIKE CAGE
Maribelle nodded. “I know.”
DO YOU LIVE HERE
“No,” she answered. “I have an apartment, not too far from here.” She paused. “Oh, wait, did you mean here, in this building, or here, in Atlanta?”
TAKE YOUR PICK
Maribelle grinned. *Good God, he even has a sense of humor.* She heard the sound of typing and looked at the screen.
WILL YOU BRING ME BOOKS
“Books? Of course. Sure I will. They should have given you books already.”
NEWSPAPERS
“Right, yeah.” She nodded.
MAGAZINES
“You like to read,” Maribelle said, and felt silly for making such an obvious statement.
“An empty mind starving for knowledge.” That was how Judith had described him. Maribelle knew it was true.
“So what kind of books would you like?” Maribelle asked. “Anything in particular?”
The golden eyes blinked. Those eyes, still so strong. Frightening, even now. Even through the cage bars.
THIS PLACE
“WEBWATCH?” she asked.
CITY
“Atlanta?” she said. “You want books about Atlanta?”
COUNTRY
“The United States?”
HISTORY
“Oh, yeah. Of course.”
LAW
She nodded. *My God…*
DICTIONARY
“Sure.”
BIBLE
“I’ll just bring you a whole stack,” Maribelle said. “A little bit of everything, okay?”
GOOD
Maribelle stared at him. He was beautiful, in a way. Terrible and beautiful. She thought of a poem of her own. William Blake. *Tyger! Tyger! burning bright In the forests of the night, What immortal hand or eye Could frame thy fearful symmetry?* Of course the creator of this particular “tyger” was as mortal as any man. And as fallible.
But, God, that fearful symmetry.
